Reading to the Butterflies

This time last week (Monday morning), Roo went to school and learned that as Bug of the Week (class helper), it was his turn to read a story to the Butterfly class (3 year olds). His reading teacher Ellen explained, with a tear in her eye, how things transpired. Apparently when Roo first heard the news, Ellen noticed tears in his eyes. He communicated that he was worried he'd be embarrassed. Ellen, knowing that he's been practicing and has the skills to the read the selected book, gently persuaded him to give it a go. Together they practiced reading the story, and talked about what to do if he gets stuck or says an incorrect word. When the moment arrived, he walked to the front of the class and confidently read the story, My Lost Bear. Needless to say, Ryan and I are super proud of him.

Waku Waku Village

Thursday I had the opportunity, as a parent volunteer, to accompany Roo's class on their first ever school overnight trip. We met at a nearby station, took the train to Shinjuku station (considered the busiest station in the world because of the gargantuan number of passengers), made a train switch and travelled for about 45 minutes, and finally, took a short bus ride to a facility near Mt. Takao. Six adults towing ten children. The facility, Waku Waku Village, is a complex containing indoor cafeterias, arts and craft rooms, and gymnasiums. Unfortunately we didn't get to experience any of the surrounding area full of trees and outdoor adventure because rain had muddied the grounds. The kids kept busy making candles, tie dying t-shirts, preparing their own curry, roasting marshmallows and eating smores, sanding wood for a log necklace, and constructing paper airplanes. Other than a couple vomit episodes, a favorite t-shirt mistakenly tie-dyed, and tears from tiredness on day two, everything went fairly smoothly. Good memories that I'm certain will stay with this group of five and six year olds for a long time!

Eyelashes

When you arrive in Tokyo, it doesn’t take long to notice the high concentration of beautiful people. Or more specifically, the high standard to which what feels like every Japanese woman accomplishes to put herself together for an appearance outside the home. Now that I’ve been here three years, I know it’s not EVERY Japanese woman, but certainly a significantly higher proportion as compared to say, a trip to the Mall of America. Before coming to Japan it wouldn’t have been far fetched to describe my style as granola or simple. I wear Birkenstocks. I let my pierced ears grow shut after having a child. My closet contained a lot of solid color t-shirts. Once I found a cut that fit of something, I purchased many in varying shades. And, I was always on the lookout for a comfy pair of jeans. Then I came to Tokyo. It took about two trips to the park to realize the mums don’t do cargo pants. Needless to say, I’ve made some changes. I’d argue it’s inevitable as evidenced by a book club conversation where the topic digressed and we found ourselves taking a pole regarding who tints or perms their eyelashes. Yes, I wrote PERMS their EYELASHES. Yes, I get my eyelashes permed. (In the group of about 10 foreign woman there was only a few who had not done one or the other, so for the record, I’m no extreme.) So, when my friend came from America, I felt she had to experience some of what Tokyo offers in the way of personal beautification. Here we are, with the perm rods wrapped, relaxing in a very foo foo girlie salon.

Way of Tea

Last week we took part in tea ceremony, or Way of Tea, in a 100+ year old tea house situated amongst the magnificent gardens of the HappoEn. The ceremony of making matcha, powdered green tea, was brought to Japan from China along with Zen Buddhism in the 9th century. Rooted deeply in Japanese ancient culture, the rituals of the ceremony carry much symbolism. My favorite words to describe the art are “sober refinement”. The powdered matcha (green tea) is whipped with boiling water creating a frothy bitter tea and is served with very sweet confections that balance the bitter. Every move seems calculated, including when the sweet is introduced to your palate down to how to turn the bowl two times clockwise before enjoying, and turning two times counter clockwise before setting down. While we were hoping to experience the ceremony kneeling on tatami, our reservation was booked in the tea house where you sit on benches, evidently more accommodating for inflexible westerners. The wind was blowing on this day, and after the tea ceremony we witnessed “sakura fubuki” or a cherry blossom snow storm. Beautifully serene, it was a lovely scene.

The entrance to the tea house. Notice Trisha's reflection as we were waiting.

The confections.
The preparation.

Turning the bowl before sipping.

After. Highly caffeinated from drinking two bowls.

Hanami

Trisha timed her arrival perfectly. Around every corner, a blooming Sakura (cherry blossom tree) greeted us. Her one weekend in Tokyo was the prime time of "hanami", the activity of picknicking under the trees.

We joined Morita san (between Roo & I) and her friends last Saturday at Shinjuku Park.

She and her friends have been meeting under the same tree for the past twenty years. We had good food, good conversation, beautiful scenery,

and plenty of laughs.

Roo made good use of the open space around our mat by entertaining himself with a game of "freeze". His animated expressions elicited giggles from a group of young adults sitting nearby.

Geisha Girls

I've been busy enjoying a visit from my childhood friend, Trisha, who has come to Tokyo. Here's us dressed as Japanese Geisha. We opted for the more "mature", "sexy" Geisha, rather than the "young" and "cute" apprentice Geisha.

Mochitsuki

Sunday we attended with friends Mochitsuki (mochi pounding ceremony) at a neighborhood park near Nishi Oi. Mochi is made from glutinous rice and is commonly eaten in various ways, much like westerners use crackers with a multitude of toppings. The cooked rice is pounded with a wooden mallet (kine) in a wooden mortar (usu). Two people work together. One swings the mallet, and another brave person turns and wets the “dough”, taking care not to get their hand smashed. After Ryan gave the pounding a go, Roo decided he would take a turn at the kid’s station.

After we explained to Roo that you don’t just want to swing wildly but need to hit accurately and with a rhythm, I feared less for the brave lady turning the rice. There were a lot of "ooohhhs" & "aaahhhs" when he was at it.

On the left, mochi with kinaka (soy flour), on the right, mochi with an (sweet red bean).